


The Aliens Are Your Eyes (get it, it's meta)

by Clicking_of_needles



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, Emotional Baggage, Handplates, M/M, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexy Shame, Shame, Size Difference, Soul Sex, Video Game Mechanics, Weird Sex, also SOUL fingering, enormous amounts of emotional baggage, in that they make bullet patterns when they come, incompatible body types, kingdings, more like handsyplates am i right, specifically oral SOUL sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22084294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clicking_of_needles/pseuds/Clicking_of_needles
Summary: Some unknown force or being locks Asgore and Gaster in a room together and refuses to let them leave until they have sex. It's very simple, really. Point A to Point B. There shouldn't be any problems getting this done at all. In a way, it's very scientific. Gaster can do this.(Handplates AU)
Relationships: Asgore Dreemurr/W. D. Gaster
Comments: 17
Kudos: 92





	The Aliens Are Your Eyes (get it, it's meta)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the Handplates AU by zarla.

It was really difficult to think of any moment in his life that could be more humiliating or awkward than this. How had it even come to this? How could something like this even be happening?

But he was here, and it was happening, and it didn't really seem like there was anything he could do to stop it.

Well, they were assured of privacy, relatively speaking, so no one besides the two of them would know, at least. Sure, he'd have to carry this knowledge with him forever, along with the threat of lingering on such thoughts when he knew he shouldn't, that was _wrong_ , but it could be worse.

"S-so..." Asgore looked down as he twiddled his fingers, unable to meet his eyes. The couch where they sat facing each other could just barely fit him when he sat sideways. His king had always been a large fellow, something that he'd maybe thought about before, with that same awful twinge of shame and self-admonition, but it was _very_ present in his thoughts now. "I, um... well, I-I know you gave me that book, and, I _did_ read it, but... I didn't pay attention to _every_ part of it, uh... like... the parts about... skeleton... erm... what's the word..."

"Physiology," Gaster mumbled, his one eye caught in the same place Asgore's were - watching his fingers circle around each other. After a moment, he reminded himself and repositioned his spectral hands in Asgore's field of vision. His font sometimes made things so inconvenient. "I suppose those sections might have been dry."

"Ah, well... yes... erm, well..." Asgore kept fidgeting, looking up and away and anywhere except across the couch to where Gaster was sitting with his legs folded in front of him. A nervous laugh didn't quite make it through his mouth. "It, er, not to... offend you, but, ah... it was... all a little, uh, dry, as you put it..."

Which didn't come as a surprise to Gaster at all. His king had always been terrible with technical writing, and he'd often had to explain, in simple terms, the reports he'd give him on what he'd been doing.

"Yes, I figured. Is there something specifically you want to know about?" Gaster said, surprisingly calm despite the constant push and pull going on inside him. He couldn't think about what they were about to do - each time his thoughts wandered he pulled them back with a sharp reprimand, but he couldn't stop returning to it... the shame of thinking about it, in a sense, was almost part of the allure. The words came from him like he didn't know what they were about to do, like they BOTH didn't know.

"A-ah..." Asgore fumbled again, his hands shaking, barely able to focus on Gaster's signing hands to read what he'd been saying. Fangs poked out from his wobbly smile, and beneath his white fur, he could see his skin flushing. "Well... I know... er, well... what's needed is... ah, it's... well, it'll probably... be focused on me, won't it?"

"If they are seeking a typical mammalian release of magical material from one being into, or sufficiently near, another, than yes, you will be what they are focusing on." Still he kept his voice completely even, and he wasn't sure himself how he was doing it. "Admittedly, I'm not an expert on such things, but I am familiar with the basics of how recreational or reproductive procreation goes for more flesh-based creatures. Even monsters, in most cases." Like reading from an invisible textbook. They always told him detaching like this wasn't a healthy way to handle a stressful situation... but what else was he supposed to do? "I assume that's how it works for your species of monster as well?"

"Ah, yes..." Asgore said, a little too quickly. "I think, erm... it's not... too different for us, or... I mean, for monsters like me. But... I don't, really know how such things work for skeletons..."

"Well, we don't typically engage in any kind of... similar activity to the ones you're familiar with. It doesn't actually even involve physical contact at all... just a sharing of the SOULs."

"But, isn't there some way for you to... I don't know... get... some kind of, er... enjoyment out of it?"

A foreign concept, even outside this admittedly bizarre situation. "Not the way you're thinking, perhaps. But-" His fingers moved before he could think better of it, and he raised a hand to his mouth as if he could retroactively take it back. He could feel the ambient aura of his face glowing, just slightly... surprised embarrassment. Blushing, as those with flesh called it. 

" _Is_ there a way...?"

"Ah... well... you shouldn't have to think of such things... it's not important to the long-term goal..."

"Gaster, if we're going to be doing... this, then I'd at least want to know you're... getting something out of it."

"I don't really need to. Whatever we need to do to get it over with is what's more important."

Asgore frowned, and he could see him searching for the right response to change his mind.

"It'd make ME happy to know you were getting something out of it. Is that enough?"

Ugh. His king knew his weakpoints too well. Now Gaster's voice was faltering, the emotional intimacy he'd been trying to avoid now closing in on him. "...I... suppose it is."

"Then... what can I do for you?"

He tried to think of it, put it into words even, and he shuddered as his brain rebelled against the thought. It was too much to even say, much less to him. He couldn't even admit it to himself. This whole situation was so wrong... it was almost unbearable. "Let's..." Even this was agony, but at least he could form the words. "Let's... get started, and... I can tell you, once we've... started." That wasn't very smooth, but it was difficult to think clearly.

"Well... if you say so, but..." Asgore didn't sound very convinced, but he didn't fight very hard either. Always such a pushover.

Gaster looked down at the couch upholstery, his eyes glowing fiercely, as he very slowly unbuttoned his own shirt. Asgore didn't say anything as he did, and he wasn't sure if he was grateful for it or not. Doing something like this, for someone else, it was just... it was humiliating, in a way, but even that didn't quite seem like the right word.

He nudged the front of his shirt open with one hand when it was done, revealing his sternum and the ladder of his ribs, all the while unable to look up to see how Asgore might have been reacting. Was he watching? Was he going through his own disrobing routine? What possible interest could he have in watching him do this?

He could feel his bones shivering, close to rattling in spite of how he tried to still them. He was going to shrug off the rest of his shirt when he caught something moving in the periphery of vision.

"Oh... that's right, your SOUL..." Asgore said, softly, and he was reaching out to him. "I haven't seen it in so long, I forgot it was... just right there."

The tips of his furry fingers touched his sternum, a hint of his retracted claws against the bone, and Gaster tried to stifle a full-body shudder he couldn't admit the source of. It took a few seconds of concentration before he felt solid enough to sign again, chancing a quick glance up to see where Asgore's eyes were so he could tell where to do it. They were, as he'd guessed, focused on his SOUL, floating serenely in its fragile prison.

"Y... yes, for... skeletons, our SOULs are visible normally... with no need to pull them outwards..." That was enough, but for some reason he kept going, the thought continuing despite everything decent in him telling him to stop. "They can be... very vulnerable, since they're so easily exposed to... others..." It choked in his throat, the embarrassment of saying that outloud, to him, what he was trying to imply, so powerful he thought he might drown.

"I see..." Asgore breathed, distracted by some kind of thoughts, and there was a kind of desperate panic in Gaster's mind and he wasn't sure in which direction, if he wanted Asgore to not have gotten his drift, or if he was begging him to have so he wouldn't have to say it out loud, and how could he even suggest it to him, how could he even say something so-... something like that out loud? Admit that he'd ever even thought about it? 

"You-" Gaster said and brought his gaze back up, an attempt at detaching from the situation as clumsy as snapping a stick. Asgore glanced up at him, but his eyes kept drifting back down to his SOUL. Back to the textbook Gaster read from before, back to talking about things that didn't actually concern him and would never concern him, some OTHER skeleton in the room having to deal with this, not him. "From, what I understand of mammalian methods, there is a common thread of, insertion, isn't that correct?"

Asgore gave him an odd, almost startled look, close to grimacing but not quite, possibly at his phrasing or just that he was saying it out loud, but it was easier to talk about how HIS body worked than his own. Talking was a way to get out of this situation, in one sense, and now Gaster couldn't stop, the words somehow tumbling out of him in an increasingly awkward and emotionless stream. "So, I was thinking- not that I've considered this before- but, since I don't have any of the aspects common to mammalian creatures, that the best option would be to adapt with what I DO have, and while, it won't particularly give _me_ any kind of pleasurable sensation, exactly, it should be sufficient to give you the stimulus needed, so..."

Asgore was giving him a look, and he went back over his words in an instant and caught himself. "Ah, I didn't specify what I meant. I was referring to my pelvic cavity, which from what I know will probably be too large to provide any kind of meaningful resistance, but, the motion should still be somewhat close to what you're... used to, so... I'd recommend we try that first, and if it's not adequate, we can try something else, but..."

He was rambling and it was clear to both of them, but the alternative was getting lost in his own thoughts, and he really didn't want to do that right now. He quickly set to taking the rest of his shirt off as he talked, studiously not looking at Asgore now and hoping that he was focusing on his hands on his own. Though he wouldn't blame him if he stopped listening... he knew he wasn't saying anything that worthwhile. He was just rambling on about the makeup of the pelvic bones that Asgore didn't need to know.

As he set his folded up clothing carefully on the floor, he wondered about the glimpses of white he'd caught on the edges of his vision. As he'd thought, briefly touched on then veered away from, Asgore had done the same as he had, shedding his colorful print shirt and large slacks and setting them down to one side in a similar way. He'd seen his king partially naked before, but never completely, and more than anything he couldn't stop raking his one eye over him in scientific curiousity. In some useless, pointless part of his mind, he catalogued where Asgore's fur changed from white to gold, where it thinned and thickened, where his muscle groups became more or less defined, what his bones might have looked like, had he been a skeleton. 

He trailed off, so busy taking imaginary, silent notes that he didn't think of what Asgore might have thought about it. Not until he saw his king flush even deeper red than before under his fur, nervously toying with one of his long ears.

"You're... staring..."

"Oh... yes," Gaster said. "I've never seen you without clothing before, so I was..." Everything in him told him to stop talking, but somehow he kept going anyway. "Taking notes," he said thinly.

"For what...?" Asgore gave him an odd, sidelong look, but was too embarrassed to face him still.

"Nothing... nothing, it's just my habit. I apologize." That brought a bit of normality back to the scene at least, a bit of more comfortable distance. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"It's alright..." Asgore mumbled, not very forcefully, so he got the sense that he wasn't entirely soothed. He couldn't think of anything else to say, though.

"Ah, is that it?" Gaster struggled to keep talking, find something else to put off the inevitable, and he pointed between his legs. "That's it, isn't it?"

"Y-yes-" Asgore stuttered, clearly flustered, and he tried to shield himself with his large paws. "Don't... don't just stare like that, it's embarrassing!"

"I didn't mean to embarrass you." Gaster frowned, and he couldn't help raising one hand to his chin in thought. "I was just doing some calculations..."

"C... calculations...?"

"Well, the circumference is greater than I assumed," Gaster said, tilting his head a little to try and get a better look but Asgore kept his hands in the way, sputtering a faint protest that didn't turn into any actual words. "And perhaps the length, but, neither should present any actual problems... it should still fit... relatively comfortably for you. Mm, unfortunately... these kind of 'things' are sensitive, aren't they?"

Asgore seemed too embarrassed to speak, so he just nodded.

"Unfortunately, I can't make any of my bones softer for you... so, perhaps the extra space will be a blessing in disguise? Then you won't, ah... hurt yourself against me, let's say."

Asgore covered his face with his hands. "Gaster, please, can we... stop talking about this and just...?"

"Right... I don't mean to embarrass you, I just..." The distance faltered, the walls closed in again. "I... prefer to think things through... I apologize."

There was an awkward silence for a few moments.

"So, how should we... start?" Asgore said.

"Well..." Gaster knew what he'd read, and heard, about mammalian creatures... there was really only one direction this could go, right? He reached out to brace himself against Asgore, which caused him to start, his fur fluffing. "Let me just..."

This wasn't something he'd ever really done before... even if he knew his own bones quite well, it felt a little like threading a very strange needle. He set two hands on Asgore's shoulders to hold himself up as he straddled Asgore's lap. It was a big thread, and a big hole, but even so... depth perception wasn't his strong suit.

He hesitated for a few seconds as he tried to line things up properly, and he felt Asgore's hands on the sides of his ribcage, supporting him. "Mmm, maybe if you..." Gaster mumbled, but it seemed like the idea occurred to Asgore on his own a second later. His paws moved down to his hips, shifting him just slightly, but he didn't press down... he left that to him.

He didn't really feel anything as he lowered himself down slowly over Asgore's... what was the term he'd read for it? It was escaping him... certain mammals had different terms for it... at the moment, he drew a blank. Well, it wasn't very relevant to his side of the equation anyway. Soon enough, he was far down as he could go, and finally then there was a sort of odd sensation... like something getting stuck in his eye, or through the holes in his hands. An unusual feeling of something where it shouldn't be.

But there it was. Penetration, wasn't that the word for it? An act that meant next to nothing to skeletons, but it was very important for mammalian types, so surely it meant something to Asgore, didn't it? Asgore's hands still rested on his hips... he could feel the warmth of his body against his pelvic rim. Gaster looked to meet his eyes, but Asgore wasn't looking at him... his eyes were down again. 

"Alright, so... that should do it," Gaster said, for lack of anything else to say and because he couldn't stand the silence of this moment. What was his king thinking right now? This gesture must have been very important to him... right? "Ah, I'm not... familiar with this kind of thing, so... I think, from here... perhaps you should..." For some reason he felt a flare of magic come up towards his face, sending another strong glow out that he didn't intend. "Perhaps you should..." It glew fiercer, brighter at the thought, stoked with that ugly, addictive shame he couldn't say was entirely unpleasant, which just made it worse. "Take... over from here..."

Asgore shivered a little, his eyes closed, perhaps in thought, perhaps from the intensity of the shameful aura Gaster was giving off at the moment that he couldn't make stop.

"You, said your SOUL was vulnerable..." One of his paws moved from his hip and traced up his spine, slowly approaching his ribcage, and Gaster couldn't help it, his bones began rattling in what he frantically told himself wasn't anticipation. "Right...?"

"Ah, yes..." Gaster struggled to sign but he wasn't sure Asgore was even looking at him, if he'd even understand. "There's... very little protecting it, from..." It was a desperate, awful hint and he hated himself for saying it, for letting it out of his mouth, for even giving him the idea, how could he do something like that-

He could feel one furry finger tracing the bottom of his ribcage, a clawtip scraping the inside as it moved upwards, inevitably, this couldn't be happening- "Y-your majes-"

Whatever protests he might have had vanished in an instant when he felt him touch his SOUL. The core and essence of his being, everything he was, and the sensation spread out through his entire body, every bone he had, every part of him, like the king was touching him all over all at once. "Ah-!"

It was a startled, blatant gasp, but not one that escaped Asgore's notice. He moved his hand away, leaving Gaster with his head bowed, breathing hard, his arms around his king's shoulders for support.

"Is that alright...?"

A fierce war raged within him - he didn't want to say yes, he didn't want to admit he wanted more, something like this, that he wanted his king to touch him like this, he didn't want to admit it or beg or say how _badly_ he wanted it, how long he'd thought about it, he wanted to be better than that, and the shame burned in him like a flame when Gaster felt himself nod, despite all logical thought screaming at him not to.

Asgore's fingers touched his SOUL again, two pawpads this time, curling up behind it, and Gaster made a shuddering, shameful cry as sensation roiled through him powerfully. He'd never experienced anything even remotely comparable to this... as his king stroked his fingers back and forth, it was as though he was caressing every part of his body at once, like Gaster was drowning in him, subsumed into him.

Gaster gasped pathetically, shivered and groaned, heaved for breath in the face of an unending surge of feeling that felt like it'd break him to pieces. "Ah, your majesty, ah- ah, please-" And thinking that word only made it worse, made him shudder powerfully, violently against him, moaning. "Yes-" Another flush of shame, that he did want this, of course he'd want something like this, someone as terrible as he was, as awful as he could be.

Gaster was barely aware of anything outside of being touched - he could sort of feel Asgore adjusting their position a little but he was a slave to his fingers, unable to think clearly or protest while they moved. Why would he protest, wasn't this what he wanted? Gaster had told him to take charge, Asgore was taking charge, wasn't that what he wanted? It was, he thought, twisting inside in a way that wasn't unpleasant, as much as it _should_ have been. At every reminder that familiar jolt went through him, rattled his bones but he couldn't stop thinking it.

Dimly he could feel some kind of motion, something moving against him and away, and he could vaguely recall what he'd read... now Asgore was actually taking action, thrusting into him, the cavity he'd provided him. The motion meant nothing compared to his hand, now holding his SOUL fully in his palm, his thumb moving steady circles across it. He was going to lose his mind.

"Ah- ahh-"

Gaster twisted his hands in Asgore's blond hair, wrapped it around the bones of his fingers, gasping with each bit of movement, trembling. That he was doing this with him, to him... that his king was doing this to him, yes... as he should, as he was meant to, as he'd asked... he'd given himself to him completely, as was his place... what he'd wanted, for his king to take him and do as he pleased...

Gaster was beyond signing but he didn't think Asgore would have been paying attention anyway, he was caught up in his own business. There was no escape from what Asgore was doing to him, every part of him could feel it, every part of him was under his touch...

Abruptly, too suddenly, Asgore's hand withdrew, and his SOUL fell back in place, throbbing with accumulated magical energy. Gaster almost wasn't sure what had happened, what was happening, he was so drunk on what he'd been doing to him, and he felt the couch cushions behind his back as Asgore hitched his hips upward to match against his, bending over him.

"Bring it out-" Asgore panted, his hair wild and with a frightening intensity in his eyes he'd never seen. "Let me..."

For only a second, Gaster wondered what he meant, and then Asgore's claws tapped against his sternum. He didn't even give it a thought - Gaster let him pull his SOUL those few inches past his bones, just outside his body. Not enough to cause him any pain, but free enough to...

One of Asgore's hands held onto his femur as he thrust into him again, pushing him back against the cushions with a fierce grunt, and then he lowered his head, and he reached his tongue out and _licked_ his SOUL-

He wasn't sure how to classify the sound he made, a kind of strangled yelp of surprise, the intimacy of the act almost too much, and when he raised a hand to take hold of his shoulder, Asgore grabbed his wrist and pushed it back down. It sent another white spike through him of some feeling he didn't know how to identify or describe, a shivering, shuddering feeling that made him shake around him powerfully, helplessly. 

It was difficult to really feel what Asgore was doing below, considering, but Gaster got the impression he was pulling out for another thrust (what was the appeal, he wondered?), and Gaster thought, this was probably his only chance, he'd already debased himself enough already, why should he fight it any more? Why even deny it? What did he have left to hide from him? Every part of him was exposed to him now. He lifted his free hand over his head, tapping it against his trapped one, and it took a moment for what he was indicating to get across... Asgore obliged, taking both wrists in one large hand and pinning them down over his head. 

Asgore was so large, it wasn't that hard for him to stretch, or to lean his head down back to where Gaster's SOUL still hovered outside his ribcage, waiting and desperate. Asgore yanked back on his femur as he thrust into him again, like there was some way he could get any deeper into him than he already was, the motion enough to move Gaster's whole body, and he gave his SOUL another lick. _That_ was what mattered to him, and he let out another strange, desperate noise at the brief flash of sensation.

The intimacy of it, of being like this with him, that Asgore was doing this with him, with _his_ SOUL, the thought was almost too much to bear. The grip on his wrists was iron, Gaster couldn't get away from him if he wanted to, which was just what he wanted, wasn't it? The thought burned in him pleasantly, sent tingles through him, made him shiver and arch his back to ask for more. He wanted this, of course he wanted this... to be at his mercy, pinned, exposed, vulnerable to him, unable to stop him from doing anything he pleased to him... every part of him, every aspect of his body and self, all exposed to him, begging for his touch, for more. Asgore licked him once with each thrust into him, and it wasn't enough, he wanted more. He could feel magic gathering in his SOUL, his feelings made manifest, begging to be expressed and released but he fought it back down as best he could - the sensation of his tongue across all that tension was incredible. 

"Yes, please, your majesty-" He knew Asgore wasn't listening, and he certainly wasn't in the state of mind to read sign language even if he could have thought clearly enough to do it, but Gaster couldn't help the gasped out words anyway, if only for the effect they had on his own mental state. Each admission of it, each thought of exactly what he wanted and what they were doing, just made that pleasurable shame boil through him again, made everything that much better and worse. Why did he even like this humiliated feeling, why did he want it? Why did he want to remind himself constantly of his position right now, of what he wanted? He couldn't stop. "P-please, ah- m-more, I w-want, I want- ahhh-!"

There were only brief moments of lucidity inbetween the rapturous waves of feeling, as Asgore thrust into him harder and faster and each lick came sooner and sooner. _Even if I wanted him to stop, I couldn't stop him_ , he thought, and he moaned with a perverse kind of pleasure, that addictive and awful shame scolding him for even thinking something like that about his king. Of course he'd stop if asked, of course he'd stop, his king wasn't that kind of person... but, if he couldn't make him stop, the thought of it... of being at his mercy here, for who knows how long, only to be released when his king was done with him, to have his king bring him to plateaus of pleasure against his will, the thought of it made him writhe and beg for more. Even that act only enflamed him further, why shouldn't he beg? Why shouldn't he want more of this, more of his king claiming him as his own... he'd always been his, every part of him, every aspect of him, and finally he was just taking what was his all along, and doing what he saw fit, and all he could do was beg him for more because this was what he wanted, this was what he perversely wanted from him, and he couldn't deny it.

The grip on his wrists tightened, dimly through one half-shut eye he could see Asgore's eyes shut tight in concentration, his teeth gritted, and his grip on his leg was almost painful. His thrusts took on a frantic, fevered pace, too quickly for him now to stop and give Gaster the attention he wanted, but who was he to make demands? Finally his king lowered his head down beside his with a strangled, strange noise, his hips spasming in what seemed to be an uncontrollable burst of motion. A sudden rush of magical energy filled the air, a brief invisible aura before a wave of pink, half-formed balls of gentle fire spread out around them in a growing circle. He could hear something spatter against the couch cushions between them... that magical energy exchange he'd heard about, no doubt. A natural reaction Asgore couldn't help, even if it'd do neither of them any good. 

For a few moments Asgore stayed like that, his face buried in his shoulder, taking in trembling, desperate gasps of air, while Gaster shivered underneath him, his own SOUL desperate to release its own bullets to join his but he couldn't, he couldn't. Asgore pulled back finally, shaking, enough to look into Gaster's eyes, hazy and half-closed, breathing hard.

As if remembering where they were, and what they'd been doing, Asgore turned his head to where Gaster's SOUL still hovered between them, pounding and radiating desire. Asgore lowered his head down, and the brief pause in the storm was enough to remind Gaster of the intensity, and the thought of being the sole focus of his attention was...

"Your majesty-" Asgore wouldn't be able to understand him, and he wasn't signing anyway, with spectral hands or otherwise. He still had his real hands pinned down, after all, and if he couldn't understand, and if this was really the only time this would probably ever happen, he might as well indulge some other awful, shameful fantasies, why not? He'd already debased himself so much already with so many terrible thoughts, there was no further down to sink. "Ah- don't- don't-"

Now there was no pause between licks, Asgore working with a single-minded focus that made everything that happened before seem like a candlelight before a fire. Gaster writhed under his attentions, kicking feebly with his toes spread every now and then but he was still trapped beneath him, trapped against him. There was nothing he could do to stop him, and he gasped out a desperate plea for more at the thought. "Please- d-don't, I c-can't, I c-can't take it-, please-"

There was nothing he wanted less than for Asgore to stop, but that was part of the whole shameful appeal of the thing to him. Awful awful awful, this is so wrong, he thought to himself as he arched his back to press his SOUL harder against Asgore's tongue, as he begged him simultaneously for more and to stop, this is so wrong. This is so so wrong for him to be doing this with me, to me, to be doing something like this to my SOUL, how could he...

With every lick Gaster cried out, hoarse and frantic, jerking and shivering, rattling frantically, begging wordlessly far louder than he was weakly protesting verbally. His SOUL felt like it was going to burst... how much magical energy could he give off without setting everything aflame?

Asgore pinned his hands down more firmly, adjusted his position slightly, and with his next lick, he angled his tongue with enough force and power to feel as though it penetrated _into_ his SOUL, and finally Gaster understood the fascination mammals had with it. It was almost a scream, the sound he made, his body jolting against Asgore but he was immovable, he was unfightable, there was nothing he could do to stop this, his face flushed, that was the best part, yes-

Asgore moved his tongue inside him as he struggled fruitlessly under him, for want of something to do with all this pent-up energy than anything else, as he tightened his legs around him, and any coherent thought was lost, completely lost. "Yes- ah- yes-!" Practically a shout, desperate and thin, wavering. Asgore pulled his tongue out for a moment, then pressed it again into the fabric of his being, and the begging sound he made shattered at the end into a frantic sob. Everywhere, he was everywhere in him, on him, around him, he was his, every part of him was his, every part of him-

In and out his tongue slid, in and out, in and out no matter how much he might have wanted him to stop, which he didn't by any means, he never wanted him to stop, but it didn't matter what he wanted, all that mattered was what his king wanted, what his king wanted of him, wanted to please him, wanted to hold him down and do this to him, and he wanted this, didn't he? He'd always wanted this, this shameful, wrong thing, he'd fantasized and dreamed about this for so long and now it was happening just as he thought, at his king's mercy as he did what he liked with him, did anything he liked with him, his helpless scientist, his devoted servant, his-

He arched with a choked, broken sounding scream of pleasure as his SOUL couldn't take anymore, sending out a vast wave of magical energy, accompanied with a thick cloud of formless, unfinished bullets, light pink and pulsing. He could feel droplets of briefly physical magic dripping down onto his sternum as he shuddered and quaked through one wave, and then another, and then another wave of bullets, crying out for each one as his body stiffened and spasmed with each release, the last dissolving into frantic, gasping sobs.

Finally, when he wasn't sure he could have any magic left, the tension threading his bones seemed to drain away slowly, and he fell back against the couch cushions, still sobbing for breath. He could feel unconscious tears falling from his eyes, his glasses askew, but he couldn't even see straight. He wasn't even sure who he was at the moment.

After what felt like an eternity of rattling and whimpering through small aftershocks, his SOUL trying to send out more bullets at each memory of what had happened without success, he felt Asgore's hand touch his cheekbone.

"A... are you alright...?"

It was difficult to make him out at first, his vision blurry, but finally he managed to make him come into focus. Asgore was staring down at him with this typical wide, gentle eyes, his hair a mess, still flushed along his cheeks and nose. His mouth shone a strange color, trailing down his beard... and he realized that must have been the physical magic his SOUL had released... it must have gotten all over his mouth, and at the thought Gaster turned his head away with an embarrassed noise. When he tugged at his hands Asgore let them go, and he quickly covered his face.

"Are you alright?" Asgore sounded more concerned now, and dimly he thought that he shouldn't let his king worry unduly. He struggled to catch his breath.

"Y... yes, I-I'm alright... i-it was... um, it was... it was just very... intense... for me..." Gaster trailed off, even saying it out loud suddenly so embarrassing, and without the sensation to mask it, the shame was beginning to overpower any other pleasant feelings it might have brought. What was wrong with him? How could he have let this happen?

"Ah, I'm sorry... I probably should have asked first if it was okay to do that... it was okay, right...?" He wasn't looking at Asgore, but he could easily picture that sheepish look on his face.

"Yes... yes it was, I wasn't... you didn't do anything wrong, don't worry." Gaster struggled to regain some kind of composure, wiping one palm under his eye, trying not to slip into a void of self-disgust at what he'd done, how he felt. Asgore slid one hand beneath his back to lift him up to sit, and he noticed vaguely that his king was no longer threaded inside him. That made sense, it would have just made it difficult for him to move freely when he'd shifted his attention more fully to Gaster himself. He must have done it while Gaster wasn't paying attention... he would have had plenty of opportunities.

"It, er... it seemed like you... enjoyed it. Right...?"

"Y..." It was embarrassing to say, but Gaster had to reassure him. Asgore reached out and wiped away some tears from his other cheek, his eyes softer than he deserved. "Yes," Gaster said, almost too faintly to be heard. "Ah... did you...?"

"Um, well..." Back to his natural faltering ways, despite the surreal situation. "Er, while your suggestion, um... did, make the, uh... movement... possible, it... well..." He wanted to say something, he could tell.

"What?" Had it not been enjoyable for Asgore after all? That sinking feeling got worse... he'd dragged Asgore into this disgusting, awful experience and he hadn't even enjoyed any of it, how could he have not noticed or cared-

"Well, it... wasn't really the motion that, um... kept me interested." Asgore couldn't quite look him in the face, as if this was somehow more embarrassing than what they'd just been doing. "It was... the sounds you were making..."

Gaster stared at him, blank, his eye-socket wide.

"Like you said, it was too- uh, it's not... well, it- your body isn't very well-suited to... for various reasons, but," Asgore rambled, apparently sensing the rigid discomfort radiating off of Gaster as he fumbled for words. "So, that wasn't... very useful for me, but... when I heard you making those sounds, that... er... do you know what I mean...?" Asgore feebly grasped for a shortcut to no avail. "I, uh... I've never heard you sound like that before, and, erm... that was... what really motivated me to... uh... continue?"

Gaster still stared at him, his eyes glowing a color he couldn't think enough about to identify.

"And, uh... well, um... I wasn't, uh... expecting you to... um, enjoy it, that much...?" Each word felt more painful to get out. "I didn't, um... know you COULD enjoy things that much, and, it's nice to see you happy, so to speak, and you kept encouraging me, and... well, that was really... what was working for me... not what I was doing, really, but, how much you liked it..."

Still Gaster stared at him.

"So that was... a surprise for me... in a lot of ways... erm..."

"You were... listening to me the whole time...?" He felt lightheaded.

"Er... yes, there wasn't really any way I couldn't..." Asgore gave him an embarrassed smile with a faint laugh. "And, when I was that close to your SOUL, it was hard not to tell how you felt..."

"You could...?"

"Yes, didn't you think of that...?" Asgore tilted his head. "That's how I was able to guess at what you wanted me to do next... though, I really should have asked you properly though..."

"How much could you...?"

"A... fair amount...?" Now he looked concerned. "I know you value your privacy but, with, er, how close I was, there wasn't any way I could NOT get a sense of how you felt..."

His king could tell how he felt...? The whole time, he knew...? He _knew_...?

Asgore laughed in that faint, hopeful way one does when they're trying to lighten the mood. "Ah, I don't think I've ever seen you glow that color before."

"What color is that?" Gaster said, thinly. Still he felt dizzy. It might have been the drain on his body in sending magic up to his eyes after he'd expended so much of it already around them.

"Mm, there is a little yellow, a little purple... but a lot of it is pink." Asgore was smiling at him, somehow, in spite of all this. Of course he'd be primarily glowing pink... with how he'd humiliated himself before, and how he was humiliating himself now with his lack of control or excuse or... something, anything! He was sure there was SOMEthing he should have done, or should be doing, to make this current situation stop happening, but he didn't know what it was. Gaster could see everything he'd done wrong closing in on him, everything he cared about falling apart in front of his eyes, the one thing he had left driven away, dashed to pieces on the floor by his own hand. What else did he ever do but destroy things? What else did he ever do but drive people away with his own pathetic failings? If he'd kept better self-control during the experience, if he'd thought about someone other than himself, than surely he would have saved Asgore from the horror he'd just experienced, and he wouldn't have to sit here while Asgore told him that he could never even look at him again. 

Powerful regret fell on well-worn grooves in his mind, how could he let this happen, what was wrong with him, how could he have lost control, how could have had such awful feelings, how could he let those feelings get the better of him, how could he destroy something again, how could he destroy the one thing he wanted to protect-

"You did say it was a little overwhelming, and for that I _am_ sorry." Asgore still gave him a gentle smile that he absolutely did not deserve, that drove into his heart like an icepick, and then, for some entirely unexplainable, unknowable reason, Asgore wrapped his arms around Gaster and pulled him close. "I shouldn't have pushed you so hard, especially if you have never done this kind of thing before. Next time, I will be much more careful with you, I promise."

Asgore's arms were broad and strong, easy to get lost in, and Gaster blinked rapidly at the white fur of his shoulder. He could feel his king breathing, his heat, the soft ambient glow of his magic this close to him, that foreign and inexplicable feeling of safety he'd always felt when he was enclosed by his arms, and something in his mind was clicking. Something was missing a gear, something couldn't quite complete a thought. Something in him wanted to run before it could complete, wanted to bolt and hide in the face of this, of all of this. He had to say something.

"A."

Asgore just held him tighter at the sound.

"A. A. A."

Somehow, his king was patient. So much of what he gave him was so undeserved. He swallowed, felt his SOUL hammering, felt the king's SOUL closer to him and quieter, all those bizarre muscles and sinew around his bones that made his hold so impossible to break.

"Next.... next time?" Gaster finally said, brittle and weak.

"Next time," was all Asgore said in response, still holding him.

What... what did that _mean_? Every conclusion he came up with didn't make sense. None of the data added up. This was _not_ how this should be happening. There was no summarization of the previous experience that would lead to this conclusion. None, nothing, never. How? Why would he say that? Why? Why would he want to...? Why would he want to, with him? Why wasn't he shoving him away and leaving? Why was he just holding him like this? Why would he want to... after everything Gaster had put him through, after everything he'd heard, after everything he'd seen in Gaster's heart, why would he want to...? Why would he want to...?

"I don't understand," Gaster managed to get out, barely. Asgore's embrace moved, his shoulders bounced just that little bit in a quiet chuckle. He felt the side of Asgore's face against his skull, hair and fur and ear nuzzling close to him.

"You will figure it out. Eventually."

What kind of thing was that to say?

And with that, there was a click from around them that told them that they were free to go.


End file.
